Last Wednesday everything changed. As many of you who read this blog know, I have spent the past few years writing a novel with the hopes of finding a literary agent to represent me.
In the past year, I've sent out many, many query letters.
And received many, many rejections. Some helpful, some not so much.
So I went back and revised. And revised. And rewrote.
Then rewrote some more.
I kept trying.
I kept getting rejected.
I got drunk and cried.
I got drunk and cursed the universe and felt sorry for myself.
Then I rewrote it again.
A few weeks ago I finished the last rewrite. I typed the last line. I sat there and looked at it. I smiled. I thought, "This is good. This has potential. It feels right."
Then I panicked and thought, "If no one likes this, I don't know what the hell I'm going to do."
Then I started sending out queries again.
On Monday I got a request to send 50 pages. I did.
On Wednesday I got a request to send the full. I did.
Wednesday afternoon I got an email with a request for a phone conversation for Friday. I almost puked on my keyboard.
I couldn't sleep those nights.
On Friday I took the call and was offered representation, and was given a week to get back to other agents who requested my full.
So by this Friday I will have an announcement, an announcement that I have been waiting years to make.
This student is ready for the next chapter.